


Elera

by Drakorn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, POV Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakorn/pseuds/Drakorn
Summary: Elera Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor and saviour of Thedas. But who was she before all that? What shaped the young Dalish into becoming the gifted mage who left for the Conclave to unknowingly put her mark on fate? A story about an elf who discovers her true role and nature among her people, is faced with constant decisions of hardship and eventually embarks on a quest that will change the world of Thedas forever.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 3





	1. A Summer's Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome to "Elera", a story that is meant to serve as an origin for my canon Lavellan Inquisitor. I did not really think I would be posting this on AO3 for real, but then I figured, why not? Elera Lavellan's backstory, what shaped and moulded her before the Inquisition, has reached such a point that it turned into a full story in of itself and I could attempt to reflect this in prose. But not to worry, events and characters from Inquisition will be included too! I decided to use the "Last Flight" method of narration. Those who read the book know what I mean, those who don't, well, it'll be a surprise for exactly one chapter (seriously though, go read that book, it's amazing). We are starting off with a little introductory chapter for now, but we'll get to the juicy stuff real soon. Now then, I wish you all good fun!
> 
> PS: If the title of this story appears in any way familiar, this story was up for a while on here but I deleted it because the format and overall idea had changed so much that it pretty much was a wholly different thing. It was just one 500-word long chapter anyway, so nobody really missed out.

**A Summer’s Night**

**9:47 Dragon**

**8446 FA**

Once again, Elera gazed into the night. She had found herself doing so quite often in recent times. Sleep would simply not come to her. Too much was on her mind.

The twin moons illuminated the vast landscape of fields and forests around the house. In the far distance, almost on the horizon, the Frostback Mountains loomed over the nightly Ferelden, serving as a distant but persevering reminder of what once was and what was still coming. To human eyes, these mountains would now be shrouded in darkness, but not to her. Her elven eyes were sharper and more attuned to the natural cycles.

Elera turned her gaze away from the far-away mountains and glanced into the heavens, searching the star-filled sky for something familiar. And she found it. Normally, it would take even a keen explorer more than a simple moment to correctly pinpoint one of the various constellations, but Elera had spent so many painful hours studying astrariums on her journeys that she recognised the formations instantly; the conditions only had to be right.

She was looking at a giant owl with wide outspread wings, dominating the stars above Ferelden. Tenebrium it was called by the humans, a name coined by the Tevinter Imperium in their ancient worship of Lusacan, the Dragon of Night. But to her people, it stood as a symbol for Falon’Din, the God of Death and Fortune. Whenever the Dalish would see this constellation at night, they would be certain that their god, even though lost to them, would still guide them and welcome them in the Eternal Forest upon their twilight.

Or so Elera had thought. Now she didn’t know what to believe in anymore.

She had considered sharing the devastating information she had uncovered during the Exalted Council with her people, but had ultimately decided against it. What good was it robbing them all of faith and hope? How would it serve them if they suddenly had nothing left to believe in?

She felt a sudden shiver running down her spine as she turned away from the sky and closed her eyes. Some things had remained true after all though.

When her eyes opened again, they were looking at her left arm, or rather, her new left arm. Even though she still found it odd to adjust to it on occasion, she couldn’t help but marvel at it regardless.

She hadn’t even asked for a prosthetic, but that decision had been taken from her. As soon as Dagna and Gatsi had seen the opportunity, they had launched themselves at it. While Dagna had fantasised over the various possibilities and experimented with some of her precious runes, Gatsi had contacted some of his people in Orzammar that were still prepared to look past his casteless status. Once Clan Lavellan had gotten wind of this project, even though Elera still didn’t know how, they had sent an entire arm made out of ironbark wood. The dwarves had modified it with ores and a rune from Dagna’s side. Through the rune, combined with the ironbark, as well as her own muscular memory, she was able to freely move it and even use its fingers as if they belonged to her. Through combined elven and dwarven effort, it was almost like she had actually regained her arm, though it was still odd adjusting to the mechanics.

She slowly reached for her staff. Even though this part of Ferelden was as safe as it could get, she still carried it around. It served as a perfect walking stick. And after so many years, it had become as much a part of her as the magic she channelled through it.

Her ironbark hand slowly closed around the staff and Elera tried to lift it. It appeared tonight was one of her luckier streaks, for she accomplished it without any difficulty. She was truly getting better at it. A few more weeks or months, depending on her willpower, and she would be fully able to perform more complex actions with it.

A yawn eventually did escape her mouth and she leaned back against the old acorn tree she was sitting under. It was old and stood alone on the small hill besides their house. She often came up here when she needed time to think and ponder. But maybe it was now time to go back to bed after all. Although…would it be truly that odd if she would sleep in under the stars right here?

Cullen would only return tomorrow, for he had urgent business to attend to with Dane, the family Mabari whom he had chivalrously rescued from the Winter Palace. He had turned out to be a most excellent breed dog and after the war, the land was in dire need of strong hounds. This time, it had been Elera’s turn to remain home.

Another yawn. Slowly, she put her staff down, closed her eyes and relaxed. Perhaps just a little bit…just a few calm hours under the stars…the rustling of the leaves above her head, the fresh grass under her bare feet, just a few hours like in the older days…

Something vigorously tugged on her robe and Elera’s eyes shot up. Her first instinct was to grab her staff and move into a defensive position. Images of war and ambush flew past her inner eye; demons, darkspawn, red templars, vile beings pulling her out of her tent at night. Already one of her thoughts drifted towards the Fade to call upon a bolt of arcane force. But a moment later, her rationality returned and she eased. Her head was reeling and she took a few deep breaths. Then she glanced at whoever or whatever was tugging her. And when she saw, her heart sank slightly.

“Leithan”, she sighed and leaned back. “ _Da’len_ , what are you doing here?”

The boy looked at her with his signature big round hazel eyes that always looked at everything with curiosity and wonder. His pitch-black hair was messy, as were his nightclothes. It was apparent he had been crawling up the hill.

“Be with you, mama”, came the slow reply.

“You’re supposed to be in bed”, Elera said gently but firmly.

“Woke. No sleep”, he mumbled quietly and yawned. Then he slumped down besides her. Elera couldn’t withhold a chuckle.

“That makes two of us then”, she said and pulled her son closer, wrapping her arm around him.

At first glance, Elera and Leithan looked nothing alike apart from the black hair. Half-elves always tended to resemble humans: human physique, human ears, human cheeks, human everything. Leithan mostly looked like a small incarnation of a dark-haired Cullen. But still, some of Elera’s facial features had carried over, such as the large eyes.

Leithan regarded her with confusion.

“Shaking?” he asked. At first Elera didn’t understand but then she noticed that her body was indeed trembling slightly. Guilt tugged at her. She had to control it, at least in his presence.

“Just a bit cold”, she said and wrapped her cloak around the both of them. “Now, would you like to tell me what woke you up?”

Leithan shrugged and looked away. Elera knew the answer immediately.

“Bad dreams?” she asked softly. Leithan looked at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. Elera ruffled his hair and pulled him slightly closer. She knew that all too well.

“Would you like to tell me about them?” she asked.

“Monsters…green mist”, he mumbled and yawned. He wrapped his arms around her waist and closed his eyes.

“They won’t get you here”, she whispered and kissed him on the head. But she still regarded him with concern. She knew the signs of approaching magic when she saw them and Leithan’s came too early. This shouldn’t be happening for another few years. She had secretly hoped he would be born without the gift; much scrutiny would be avoided. But then again…Leliana’s new decree seemed to work true miracles in the South. Perhaps, one day, hopefully by the time he would be grown up, things would indeed be different.

“Make light?” Leithan asked and opened his eyes, looking at her again in anticipation. Even though Elera was tired, she couldn’t resist that look even if she tried to.

Gently, almost tenderly, she reached out to the Fade and called upon her arcane powers. A moment later, a small green flame was dancing on her palm; veilfire.

An audible “Oooooohhhh” of wonder came from Leithan and he stretched out his tiny hands towards it. Elera slowly blew into her palm and navigated the flame through the air. Leithan reached for it, but the flame escaped and began to dance around the two of them by hopping on the ground. Veilfire wasn’t dangerous and wouldn’t burn anything. Leithan jumped away from his mother and tried to catch the flame. Elera chuckled and extended its reach. Now it began whirling around the whole tree. Leithan laughed and gave chase. Eventually, as the flame had done three circles around the tree, Elera slowed it down in front of her. Leithan, heavily breathing, made one final jump and closed the green light around his palms, landing in his mother’s lap.

“The target has been captured”, Elera laughed. Leithan made himself comfortable in her lap and opened his palms. The fire was still there, no longer moving, simply illuminating both of their faces.

Finally, Leithan yawned and leaned back. Running around the tree had caused his tiredness to return. Elera once again wrapped her cloak around him, shielding him from the elements. While he was still looking at the veilfire in half-present wonder, she leaned back and closed her eyes, a blessed smile written over her face.

“Mama?”

“Hmm?”

“Story?”

Elera opened her eyes again and raised an eyebrow.

“I told you one earlier, _da’len_ ”, she said. And what a tale it had been: the tale of Sera and the rooftop. Of course, Elera had described it with a bit more flair. Telling her son stories truly made her a better narrator. Varric had expressed his pride in his last letter, pride that she was finally starting to understand the meaning of the term ‘narrative structure’.

“More?” Leithan asked cheekily. Elera sighed.

“Will you promise to go to bed afterwards?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, yes”, he replied, nodding his head dramatically. “Now, story?”

“Oh, very well, what kind of story would you like to hear tonight?”

“About you!”

“About me?” Elera asked, caught off-guard. “ _Da’len_ , come on, wouldn’t that be boring?” Leithan shook his head vehemently.

“No”, he said. “No, no, no, no, about you!”

“Leithan…”

“Papa told of himself”, Leithan said. “Why not mama? Tell about Dalish!”

“About the Dalish?”

“Yes, yes! Tell of grandmother, adventures! Tell me Dalish story!”

Elera didn’t say anything for a few moments. She pondered and thought. She hadn’t told her son much about her life as a Dalish elf, she hadn’t really told him too much about her life in the Inquisition either. The reason mostly was that he was simply too young for the details.

“Mama, please”, Leithan demanded, his eyes bigger than ever.

Or maybe…she could give it a try? Leithan didn’t know much about Dalish culture. The only time he had even seen other Dalish apart from Elera had been when her mother had visited, along with some other clan members. But that had been a while ago. Besides…she did get better at telling a narrative. Maybe she could simply…overlook the more grizzly parts for now.

She took a deep breath. Then there was also the case of her son’s signs of approaching magic. She had to somehow prepare him, herself and Cullen for what was to come. She had to begin at some point.

“Very well”, she said and smiled tiredly. “I shall tell you about…me.”

“Yes!” Leithan exclaimed.

“But only one story, remember?”

“Yes, yes, yes”, he said impatiently. Elera chuckled again, for that reminded her of another young one far away from here.

A swarm of fireflies flew across the fields, towards the tree they were sitting under and a warm summer’s wind caressed them. Leithan yawned and wrapped himself further into his mother’s cloak. Elera smiled and stroked his hair slowly. Then she slowly extinguished the veilfire and gazed at the tree, the fireflies, the nightly landscapes and then the stars above Ferelden.

“It began in another time, in another land”, she began slowly and quietly, her voice like a lullaby to the boy in her lap. “It began with a ruin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this would be the ending of the first chapter. I know, wasn't very long. Those who are reading "The Northern Wars" would know how short this is compared to what's happening there. But I don't really think this one needed that much. Oh well, I hope you found enjoyment in this first entry! I would very much cherish and welcome any sort of feedback or even criticism (as long as it's constructive of course). But that's completely up to you, I'm writing this for the fun and if I can learn anything on the way, all the better. Right then, until next time, thank you so much for reading this far!


	2. Clan Lavellan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, and welcome to the second chapter! Thank you SO much for the hits, kudos and bookmarks. I didn't expect this to do so well at the beginning, which only motivated me further. In this chapter, we actually do get to see what the summary has been talking about, Lavellan's origin story, at least according to my headcanon.
> 
> Now, there may be one element to this story regarding a certain character that may cause a bit of a division, I imagine. Or perhaps I'm just being a bit paranoid. Well, I'll see in due time anyway.
> 
> Before we begin, I would like to give a shoutout to FenxShiral's "Project Elvhen: Book of Names". I know, or at least hope, that everyone has read this wonderful elven naming encyclopedia by now, but if not, you should. It's absolutely amazing and a great companion for all the Dalish writers here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4401050/chapters/9994241
> 
> Now then, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Have fun!

**Clan Lavellan**

**9:19 Dragon**

**8418 FA**

Elera gazed at the tree their aravel was standing under. Something wasn’t quite the way it was supposed to be, she felt. Her large midnight-blue eyes scanned the tree from root to canopy. It was a pinewood tree, one of the largest she had ever seen. And yet…there was something else about it.

Somehow, the trunk itself seemed different. If only she could see more in the darkness.

She raced around the aravel and began climbing. Even though her arms and legs were relatively short, she had done it so many times before that she could pinpoint the exact spots she had to grab and hold on to. In a matter of moments, she was sitting on the vehicle’s roof.

It was in the early hours of dawn. The twin moons had disappeared and she could see the first rays of the sun appearing somewhere behind the magnificent canopies. An hour or more and the clearing would be filled with light.

Elera studied the tree once more, and as more light started to illuminate the area, she could finally make out details. Her mouth opened in fascination and wonder.

The trunk was shaped like a person. Legs stuck in the earth, the two arms and fingers serving as branches. Elera raised her head to look at the face, for there had to be a face. And indeed there was, a woman’s face, elven features, beautifully carved from the wood; no, it was part of the tree itself, like the arms and legs. The hair served as the canopy. Elera’s eyes widened.

“Wonderful”, she whispered in awe. She lay down on her back, crossed her legs and folded her arms on her chest. A yawn escaped her. Maybe she would find some sleep now. Maybe just for one hour…

“I thought I heard something climbing around”, a voice said. Elera jolted upwards. Of course, the Creators planned something else for her. She slowly crouched to the edge of the roof and peered down.

“I assumed it could be another squirrel gathering, but then I remembered who sleeps under this roof.” Her voice was tired, strict, but not without a layer of jest underneath. Elera sighed.

“Good morning, mother”, she muttered.

Unlike Elera, Deshanna was already dressed for the day. Her long black hair was tied back and her leaf-green tunic devoid of any wrinkles. She leaned on her staff while her forest green eyes, surrounded by the _vallaslin_ of Mythal, looked at Elera with a mixture of curiosity, reprimanding and amusement.

“Now, would you like to come down and tell me what you were doing up there this time?” she asked. At once, Elera’s thoughts raced back to the tree and she nodded in excitement. With a careful though slightly clumsy jump she landed right in front of her mother, who raised an eyebrow.

“At least your agility is improving”, she sighed, “though I would welcome it if you could just climb down for a change.”

“But that’s slow”, came the swift reply. “Come! I must show you something! Come!” She grabbed her mother’s free hand and pulled her around the aravel. Deshanna allowed herself to be dragged along, shaking her head while quietly chuckling.

“There!” Elera exclaimed and pointed at the tree. Even though it wasn’t much brighter than a few minutes ago, Deshanna had no trouble making out the details with her sharper sight. She regarded the elf-shaped tree and her eyes gleamed with interest.

“Fascinating”, she said, “strange that we didn’t notice this while setting up camp yesterday.”

“Do you know what it is?” Elera asked in excited anticipation. Deshanna pondered for a moment, then shrugged apologetically.

“I’m afraid not”, she said. “This is my first time in this forest as well. The _Arlathvhen_ and the journey there shall be a new experience for the both of us.”

There it was again. That word. _Arlathvhen_. A word of complete mystery a few weeks ago, now a catalyst for endless excitement. An occasion that only happened once in a decade, the _Arlathvhen_ was the one time when all Dalish clans, at least those who could make it, would be in the same place at the same time, exchanging knowledge, skills, and even, on occasion, members. The clans would travel from across all Thedas to here, Arlathan Forest, the rumoured place where the centre of the elven world, the grand city of Arlathan, had once stood, before the Tevinter Imperium had vanquished it into the depths of the earth. Elera hadn’t even been born yet when the last _Arlathvhen_ had occurred, and her mother had been no Dalish yet.

Despite her mother’s lack of knowledge, Elera still wanted to pierce her with questions, her anticipation was so hard to contain. But then she involuntarily gave out a big yawn. Her mother glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

“And this, _da’len_ , is what happens when you climb around aravels before dawn”, she said. “What woke you even?”

Elera looked down and studied the grass around her toes. She knew this question would come sooner or later. And she had no wish to answer it. But she also knew that her mother would not be brushed off.

“Well?” Deshanna asked, her voice a tad stricter.

“I…couldn’t sleep…again”, Elera muttered without looking at her. Deshanna stepped in front of her and slowly knelt down to look her in the eyes. There was no scorn in her gaze, no reprimanding, just inquisitive concern.

“Bad dreams?” she asked. Elera nodded slowly. Deshanna frowned and her voice took on a slightly accusative edge.

“Elera, I told you to inform me immediately should they occur again. Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked and Elera cringed slightly.

“You were so tired yesterday”, she said. “And the Keeper gave you so many tasks…I didn’t want to bother you.”

Deshanna looked at her daughter for a moment before her features softened and she sighed.

“ _Vhenan_ ”, she said softly, “how could you ever bother me with this? I never want to hear these words from you again, understood?”

Elera felt foolish, as she always did on these occasions. If her mother would be bothered, she wouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. She slowly nodded.

“There”, Deshanna said, stood up and gently turned Elera around, giving her a nudge towards the aravel. “Now come and tell me about those dreams.”

Deshanna had managed to design the aravel’s interior in a way that was both practical and comfortable: three hammocks in the back, one for each inhabitant, a small cupboard behind them that contained their clothes, a small box in a corner with things of sentimental value from Deshanna’s time in Ostwick, a small table for solitary meals and furs everywhere.

Elera was sitting at the table, now dressed for the day in her green-blue tunic, slowly chewing a piece of halla cheese, which she spilled down with cold clean water. The collective morning meal would still commence, but halla cheese had an incredible talent of stirring one’s concentration. Elera had no real appetite, but when it came to those things, there was absolutely no arguing with Deshanna. Her mother sat patiently at her side and waited for her to finish. When she did, Deshanna walked to the little box and took out her journal, quill and ink, another rarity amongst the Dalish. One of the few things Elera knew about her mother’s city life was that she had been in a position where the skill of writing was most essential.

“Now”, she said, opening the journal and gazing at Elera, “tell me what you remember.”

Elera leaned back, rubbed her stomach and thought. To her surprise, she did remember more than usual, but it was also to her unpleasantness.

“Green mist”, she said slowly and closed her eyes to concentrate more. “Voices crying out…all kinds of feelings…things I can’t clearly see.”

“Mhm”, Deshanna muttered while noting all of this down in a flying arrow’s speed. “That doesn’t strike me as anything bad though. Uncanny, perhaps, but bad? What made it bad?”

Elera sighed and shifted around uncomfortably. She opened her eyes and gave her mother a worried look. She slowly reached out and gently touched her hand, giving her an encouraging smile and nodding for her to continue.

“There was always fear…everywhere...”, Elera continued. “More than ever. And then there were faces…following me…bad faces.”

That was a mild way of putting it. Those faces had been grotesque…fully monstrous. She simply couldn’t find the proper words to describe them. But judging by her mother’s face, she didn’t have to.

Deshanna tugged the journal and the writing equipment back into her box, closed it and returned to Elera, who was still shifting around uneasily. She wrapped the girl into a hug stroked her back.

“They won’t get you here”, she said in a quiet, almost whispering tone.

“How do you know?” Elera asked. Deshanna gave her a wry smile.

“I always know”, she said and released her. At this moment, the sound of the ever-punctual morning horn sounded from outside. Elera jolted while Deshanna merely sighed.

“Well then”, she said. “It would appear the day has officially begun. You know what that means?”

“Do I have to?” Elera scowled.

“Absolutely.”

“But do I have to?”

“We are not having this discussion again.”

“Can I not be sick?”

“Elera Lavellan, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and pretend I did not just hear that coming out of your mouth”, Deshanna responded with the strict and disciplined voice of the First to the Keeper. “Come now, your friends will be there. And besides, you can ask hahren Meral about this tree, how does that sound?”

That, indeed, did sound intriguing after all. But why did it have to be him she had to go to?

“Mmmh…I guess”, she grumbled. “I’d much rather look out for father.”

She thought of Velriel somewhere in the depths of the forest, miles away from here. As the clan’s warleader, it also belonged to his duties to scout out the way ahead to make sure the path was clear of any potential threats. For that, he always took some of the guards along, though he always made sure to leave the best behind, for the safety of the clan was more crucial than a road that could be changed if needed. He had been away for two days now, nothing unusual. Sometimes he even stayed away for a week, it all depended on the location. And Arlathan Forest was a perilous location; beautiful and full of ancient lore, but nevertheless perilous.

“Your father will be back when he is back”, Deshanna said. “I personally wager that he is going to be tired. I also wager that the last thing he would want to hear after such a journey is that his daughter was neglecting her own duties in the clan. Don’t you agree?”

Elera didn’t say anything, but she nodded reluctantly. Deshanna chuckled.

“I thought so”, she said. “Now then, run along. I must join Keeper Rasanor now. I will see you for the midday meal.”

“Yes, mother”, Elera said.

“And Elera?” Deshanna added. “If you are dreaming bad again, see me immediately. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, mother.”

The morning meal went by in a blur. While the rest of Clan Lavellan enjoyed the sunlight, Elera felt a headache approaching and couldn’t wait for a quieter place. Her mother was watching her from the Keeper’s side with concern. Elera attempted a reassuring smile, but when she did, all that she managed to produce was another long yawn. Deshanna gave her a look but then Rasanor said something that forced her to draw her attention to him. She was his First after all, his apprentice and eventual successor. She couldn’t allow herself to focus on just one individual during collective occasions such as this, even if said individual was her own flesh and blood. Such bonds were not as significant among the Dalish as in human settlements, but Deshanna hadn’t always been Dalish.

Elera didn’t really speak to anyone during the meal. Her friends had teachers to converse with and her parents were occupied. She simply gnawed at her piece of bread with leech and sipped a bit of water to at least make the impression of having an appetite. But her thoughts were racing between the dreams, the tree, her father and the _Arlathvhen_. She was both tired and intrigued, a dangerous combination.

As the clan couldn’t continue its journey until Velriel and his hunters had returned, everyone assumed their usual daily activities. Rasanor and Deshanna retreated to the Keeper’s aravel where they would continue to plan Clan Lavellan’s role during the _Arlathvhen_ , hearthmisstress Naema returned to watch over the supplies and make sure that nobody lacked anything, halla keeper Areina had already rushed off mid-meal to resume her care for the animals, for they had been acting strangely restless the moment they had entered the forest, crafter Mihren returned to his ironbark project, something only he and his apprentice had the right to gaze upon until its completion for the _Arlathvhen_ , wildmaster Shora and her hunters embarked into the woods to gather more supplies, accompanied by healer Viera who was in dire need of herbs, second guardian Vunora resumed her patrols…and then there was hahren Meral. Apart from his duties as loremaster, it was also his task to educate and care for the children before they came of apprentice age. This only meant that Elera was bound to him.

Now she was sitting on a tree stump, trying her best not to yawn. The lack of sleep had begun to truly catch up with her and she only wanted to return to her hammock and hide from the sun. Unfortunately, that was quite unlikely to happen. But she was so tired…

“Would you care to answer my question during the day?” came a sharp voice, “or shall we await the moons to rise again?”

Elera shook her head and looked up. Only now did she notice the three pairs of eyes staring at her. Thalia and Nehnis, the only other children in the clan, regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement; the third pair belonged to Meral. A tall man with silvery hair, piercing grey eyes and the striking _vallaslin_ of Dirthamen, a constant aura of authority surrounded hahren Meral. Now, all of this authority was staring Elera right in the eyes and she gulped.

“Sorry, hahren”, she said. “What was the question?”

“Unbelievable”, came the exasperated reply. “On days like these I wonder why we preserve our people’s history if the next generation is not even willing to learn it.”

Elera cringed slightly and didn’t respond.

“Very well”, Meral sighed. “What started the war for the Dales?”

Elera thought carefully. She had to know this, for sure. So many times had they gone through this tale. The fall of the Dales…the start of the war…there had been a fight…but all wars had fights, so that answer wasn’t going to help her…but what was it…

_Come on, Elera_ , she chastised herself, _come on!_

“Nothing?” Meral asked with a tone that didn’t indicate any surprise and sighed, “very well, Thalia?”

“Templars”, Thalia said, pondering carefully. “They invaded our lands after…after…mmmhh…something?”

“After we kicked their missionaries out?” Nehnis, who had been raising his hand for about a minute at this point, leaned in.

Hahren Meral gave each of them a stern look.

“Distraction and no commitment”, he said to Elera, “lack of full knowledge”, he continued with Thalia, “and impatience”, he finished with Nehnis. “If this is truly what Clan Lavellan’s future resembles, I hope I perish before you assume adulthood.” He sat on his tree stump and massaged his temples. “Or perhaps the _Arlathvhen_ will provide us with more than necessary gifted ones with whom I will not be wasting the years I have left before Falon’Din shall guide me into the night.”

Elera looked at her friends. Thalia was crossing her arms, scoffing at Meral as if she just got told that she wouldn’t get to possess her own bow after all and Nehnis was quietly whistling, twiddling his thumbs.

“I wasn’t wrong though”, he quietly mumbled and only Elera heard it. She couldn’t restrain a chuckle.

“Oh, this amuses you, Elera?” Meral hissed. “I truly hope you will never end in a position that requires you to teach. If this, Creators forbid, does happen one day, doom will come and pull our curtains aside as certain as is the Dread Wolf’s howl.”

He stood up and began to walk back and forth in front of them. What followed next was an hour-long lecture about how the Templars invaded the Dales long ago, sparking a disastrous war between the elves and the Chantry. The cruel irony was that the Chantry’s main symbol, the prophet Andraste, was the one who had granted them the Dales in the first place, a fact Kordillus Drakon’s cult of the Maker had conveniently forgotten. Blood and terror had been the cause, as well as the great split of the people. Those who submitted to the Chantry and renounced the Creators to embrace the Maker, were permitted to live in human settlements under harsh, often deadly conditions. Those who were brave enough to stand their ground were still traveling the lands of Thedas as the Dalish clans. That was Meral’s account of the story. Elera, however, wasn’t so certain. Her mother had begun her life in an alienage and she was one of the bravest people she knew.

“This is why we are here”, Meral concluded. “This is why we travel and live apart to protect our legacies. We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit.”

“And never again shall we submit”, the children repeated. They had known that oath since their earliest years. It was the very essence of the Dalish, a reminder of what once was and what they would one day retrieve.

“Remember this,” Meral said. “And carry it with you.”

The children nodded. When Meral sat down on his stump and closed his eyes for a short moment of rest, Elera looked away and studied the clan’s activities. Hearthmisstress Naema wielded her pinewood staff and seemed to mumble a few words while gazing at a small fire in front of her, where something was stirring in a pot. Naema was the oldest member of Clan Lavellan, even older than Rasanor and Meral. Nobody truly knew her age, including herself. But she was still very much a valuable member, for she too had magic. Not many Dalish clans allowed a third mage to reside among them, but Clan Lavellan’s situation was a special one. Naema was too old to be Rasanor’s apprentice and could not, under any circumstances, succeed him as Keeper, for that would be a rather short leadership. Deshanna was young and gifted, willing to learn, and brought a new perspective with her, an ideal student. So far, no Templars had troubled them.

Elera’s gaze shifted behind her, where the halla were kept. What she saw was both amusing and worrying. Halla keeper Areina, a woman with hair as white as the creatures’ fur and eyes as red as blood, was jumping back and forth between the animals, trying to speak as soft as possible to calm them down. The halla had been incredibly restless during the morning, even more so than before. Siona, the eldest in the herd, was giving Areina a particularly tough time. She constantly stood up on her hind legs and yelled across the clearing. One time, Areina had to dodge a hoof that would have otherwise hit her in the face.

“Is she sick or something?” Thalia asked while following Elera’s gaze.

“Mmmh, I would say she is afraid”, Nehnis added in. “But what of, that is the question.”

Meral opened his eyes and regarded the halla, frowning.

“They are not our concern”, he said. “Areina has her task, we have ours. Now, let us continue.” At this moment, Elera remembered the tree and gave out an audible gasp of excitement.

“What is it?” Meral asked impatiently. “Do not tell me you suddenly began to cherish your education.”

“No, no, I mean yes, yes! But I had a question!”

“Oh? Is that so? This should be good”, he replied drily.

“What is that?” Elera pointed at the tree she had studied before dawn. Meral followed her finger and held his chin in thought.

“Did we not handle this topic yesterday?” he asked.

“No, hahren”, Elera said.

“No”, Thalia added and watched the tree with mild interest.

“I would think not”, Nehnis confirmed, regarding the tree with his creative eyes.

“Oh…that is…unfortunate”, Meral said and Elera saw his face blush slightly. “That error shall be remedied now. What you see there is one of the wayfinder graves.”

“The what?” all three of them asked in unison.

“In the days of Elvhenan, when Arlathan was still the great centre of the world, the greatest heroes of old were laid to rest in this very forest, their very selves becoming one with the eternal natural world. But these graves have a function as well, for they lead us to the _Arlathvhen_. They are wayfinders and memorials.”

For the first time on this day, Meral spoke with true passion. Whenever he did that, he was actually interesting to listen to. Elera’s eyes widened with new wonder and she forgot about her tiredness.

“Do you know who this is?” she said and regarded the woman the trunk was depicting. Meral sighed in sadness.

“I do not”, he said. “The names of those laid to rest here have been lost to time, along with so much more. It is our sacred duty to restore this information.” On this part, Elera agreed with him. She would have loved to know who this mysterious hero of old had been, what great deed she had done to earn her mark in this ancient forest. Had she seen the Creators before the Dread Wolf’s great betrayal? Would she ever know the answer to this?

“Thank you for bringing this up, Elera”, Meral said and gave her a reluctant nod of approval. “Perhaps there is some hope for you after all.” Then he raised himself and stretched his arms. “Very well, children. I think we have earned ourselves a short rest. I will see you back here in fifteen minutes.” Without a further word, he turned away and strode to his aravel.

“He actually approved something you said”, Thalia uttered in amazement. “Who is this man and what did he do to Meral?”

“Perhaps we misjudged him”, Nehnis said.

Elera shrugged.

“I was just curious”, she said. Then she gave out a grand yawn again. Thalia and Nehnis laughed.

“He should be telling us lullabies”, Thalia exclaimed. “We’d be falling asleep as quick as a collapsing tree.”

Elera nodded silently. Her friends didn’t know of her re-emerged sleep problems and it was best it stayed that way. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble.

A yell of frustration came from behind them. The children turned around to see halla keeper Areina practically fighting Siona to stay with the herd.

“Damn”, Thalia said. “What is it with her today?”

Elera approached the halla grounds with caution, her interest nevertheless sparked. Her friends, after a short while, joined her.

“Will…you…stay…put!” Areina growled between gritted teeth. She gently but firmly grabbed the halla by her head and pulled her right before her face.

“Look me in the eyes”, she said, breathing heavily. “Look at me. Tell me what bothers you.”

But Siona did not want to calm down. The creature gave off a sound of panic and started fighting Areina’s grip.

Elera, Thalia and Nehnis were looking at this scene from the fence. Areina was a strong woman with an iron grip, but she wouldn’t hold the halla forever.

“Something extraordinary is troubling her”, Nehnis suggested with raised eyebrows.

“You don’t say”, Thalia replied. “It’s surely not a bug.”

“Do you need help?” Elera called to Areina. And she meant it. She knew very well that she may not accomplish much on her own, but a joined force could do wonders.

Areina allowed herself one moment to look at the trio.

“Get away, children!” she called, while continuing her struggle. “Or wait! No! Get someone! Anyone! Anyone with muscles or ropes! This is getting dangerous!”

“I’ll get a guardian!” Thalia yelled and jolted off. She was the fastest runner of the three so it made sense for her to go.

“I shall retrieve ropes from master Mihren”, Nehnis said calmly and ran into another direction.

Elera remained, looking at the scenario unfolding before her. She thought about getting her mother or Keeper Rasanor. Or maybe even Naema. Surely, their magic could help. But they were all so busy…however, this was an urgent situation…and-

She had been thinking for too long. Areina yelled in surprise as Siona threw her mighty head into the air, sending the halla keeper flying right over her. The next instant, she was galloping towards the fence, right into Elera’s direction. The young elf was petrified. For a few moments, utter panic prevented her from performing even the slightest coherent action.

“Out of the way, _da’len_!” came Areina’s urgent call. But it came too late. When Elera regained a sense of thought, Siona launched herself over the fence, right into her direction. With a high-pitched shriek, Elera jumped, but not to the side. In her panic, she had lost all sense of direction, which threw her right towards the approaching halla. Instinctively, she stretched out her hands…and found herself locked into a tight embrace with the creature’s neck.

Elera shut her eyes tightly as she felt the wind race past her. She couldn’t do anything except holding on. She didn’t even dare to open her eyes to see where they were going. The only things she heard were Sioni’s sounds of panic, her hooves on the ground and, eventually, the rustling of the leaves. They had entered the forest. Clan Lavellan was quickly left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again at the end. Thank you to everyone who made it this far. I do hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Now, obviously, Deshanna is a canon character. But there is only one thing we know about her for certain: She is the Keeper of Clan Lavellan during Inquisition. She is so wrapped in obscurity, even the gender is a matter of debate, though I chose to go with her being female for two reasons: 1. Most of the time in-game, she's referred to as a female and the only time where Deshanna is referred to as a "he" is when a fighter in Wycome sees someone he refers to as "The Dalish leader". So it might have been a writing mistake or that agent simply made a mistake in the chaos of battle. 2. I always had the headcanon that the Inquisitor and Deshanna are biologically related and a mother-daughter relationship among the Dalish is something I would very much like to explore further. There are more reasons why I chose to make them actually related, but those will be revealed further down the road.
> 
> Right then, I'd say that's it for now! If you have any comments, queries, suggestions for improvements even; if you have anything on your mind, I'd love to hear it! I shall see you in the next chapter. Take care!


End file.
